One Word
by life-coveter
Summary: Peeta's recollections of his tortures under the Capitol. It'll be dark...
1. Prologue

Look, I'm just going to speak to you like I speak to most people my age. I am not going to sugar coat what I'm about to say so just as a warning, this is not for the squirmy. I am also not going to use fancy words to make it sound like I'm intelligent or charming… well, if it ends up that way then so be it, I guess…

But what I'm about to tell you is graphic and… real… or at least it _was_ all very real to me.

This is what I remember… of the times I want to erase.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

"Who is Katniss Everdeen?"

A different voice.

It was always this other guy who would come and I have mentally named him _Muscle _because all he did was beat me up. Actually, Muscle didn't really talk to me. He just always beat the shit out of me until I pass out.

So I figured that Snow must be trying a different approach with me today.

This must be what… the fourth day they've held me captive?

I groaned. I just simply groaned, trying to tilt my head up to identify my interrogator. Of course, it was not someone I knew.

_Of course not_.

It was some lady, perhaps ten years junior of my dad, wearing a ponytail, rectangular spectacles, a lab coat and a pair of heels. _Really_ loud heels. They were so loud I started thinking she was making them clack like that on purpose to put me in more agony.

So I groaned… and then laughed. I think my laugh sounded somewhere between hysterical and evil, and definitely not my kind of laugh because she took a step back as if she was suddenly afraid of me.

"Who is Katniss Everdeen?" she repeated, clearing her throat as if to compose herself.

I didn't answer, I just _laughed_.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked, worried.

"Because…" I panted, still laughing, then sharp pains shot right into my chest which forced me to halt. "… Because Snow really thinks that _that_ is how he's going to _break_ me? Really? 'Who is Katniss Everdeen?'"

_No matter what happens Peeta, do not break, _he thought._ You need to protect her. At all costs._

"Mr Mellark, who _is_ Katniss Everdeen? Why don't you just try and answer that question for me?" She calmly asked, dragging a chair to face me, gripping her clipboard and pen in her hand.

I tried to smell her, get a scent out of her, but failed. I think Muscle broke my nose. I imagine, however, that she might smell of those disgusting blood roses just like Snow. She looked sterilised, though, and tidy, unlike your typical ignorant Capitol residents.

"Okay," she sighed, exasperated. "I tell you what… why don't you just think about the answer, you don't have to tell me what you're thinking, okay? All I ask is that before I leave this room, you give me a one word answer to that one question. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a joke," I managed to choke out, shifting on my chair which has become my home.

You must have some questions by now. Let me see…

I was dragged to this place right after the Games abruptly ended. Well, I don't actually know. I'm not really sure. They drugged me and when I woke up, I was here.

It's just a room, no bigger than a small bedroom. Every wall had a mirror. _So they can watch me_, I figured.

At first, they threw me into the corner. I was still groggy at that time, so all I did was sleep. And I think they let me sleep. Why? I wasn't sure.

And this was what I meant, if we were counting by _my_ days, I have only been here for four days because those are the only times I've actually been conscious. If I slept through more than one full day, I wouldn't know about it.

Anyway, I woke up one day with this... this blinding light being dangled in front of me. I attempted to shield my eyes but that's when I knew they tied me up. From that day on, if I got beaten senseless or got spared for a day (or maybe just hours…), this chair was my companion. I am rooted to it. If I fall, it falls with me. The chair has become my bearing.

My hands and feet have been bound for days. My arms were starting to feel numb so I tried moving my wrists to a more comfortable position against the ropes that were gently bleeding me to death as this lady stared me down.

"Does it?" she asked, feigning interest.

I nodded, attempting another laugh but fall short.

"Well, it won't be a joke when President Snow takes it out on your fiancée and bombs her hiding place into smithereens," she said nonchalantly.

"He wouldn't…"

"Oh, but I think he _would_, Peeta. We both _know_ he would. We both know it's only a matter of time until he finds the Mockingjay, until he brings her here, until he slits her precious throat right before your eyes." She was manic, her voice savouring those last words about Katniss' demise. Her eyes… they were just… _wide_ with sheer madness.

Fuck.

I mean, it's one thing to be beaten up by some gigantic idiot who probably only carried out Snow's biddings in exchange for a complete set of meals a day, but it's an entirely different thing to deal with a crazy doctor… or whatever this bitch does for a living.

I'm not really going to risk it, am I? I'm not prepared to play with Katniss' life.

_Play it safe, Peeta. Draw attention away from the Capitol's hunt for Katniss_.

"Alright, fine," I was defeated. "I will think about your question and I will give you a one word answer when you leave."

"Good. So… who is Katniss Everdeen?"

That's actually a good question.

One that I can't answer with just a single word.

_Katniss Everdeen is my life._ Well… I can't say that. They will kill her to break me. Or kill me to bring her out of hiding… _then _they will kill her.

_Katniss Everdeen is a symbol, a heroic figure to a lot of people_. I don't think I can say that either. They will just continue to bomb the Districts until everything turns into absolutely nothing.

Well, shit.

I really have to think about this fucking answer. If I'm to survive… if _Katniss_ is to survive… I would need to think fast.

Think. Think. Think.

I shut my eyes tightly. Think. Think. Think.

Katniss is a huntress. Okay… keep going…

When she moves, she is stealthy, precise, and… and…_gorgeous_...

I got it!

I played the word over and over in my head. It's good, there is no harm in the word (well, none that I could see), it's somewhat true too, figuratively.

"Hey, what's your name?" I asked, breaking my silence after what felt like hours of wracking my brain.

"It doesn't matter what my name is, Peeta," she answered, looking away from me. I nodded because somehow I understood. They will kill me or worse, I'll never leave this hell hole so why bother exchanging names, right?

So that's when it came to me. I'm naming her_ Evader_.

"Have you got an answer for me?"

"I do. Are you leaving now?"

"I am," she started. "But I'll be back soon."

"I don't care," I snarled. Like I actually _give_ a fuck?

"Oh, trust me, you _will_ care. So what's my word?" There's that crazy look in her eyes again.

"Fox," I whispered.

"Who is Katniss Everdeen, Peeta?"

"It's not _who_ is Katniss Everdeen, it's _what_ is Katniss Everdeen. And she is a fox," I said, projecting my voice a little.

"I believe we're making some progress here, Peeta," a wicked grin spread her face. As she shut the door, she stared right into my eyes and muttered, "Until next time."

Then darkness.

That was all I was left with…

Darkness...

...and utter silence. And in that silence I became consumed by the thought that I might have just royally screwed everything up.

* * *

Thanks for reading! :) Please rate and review, I would love to hear your thoughts!


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_Fox._

_She's a fox._

_Katniss is a fox._

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

_Surely I'm missing something._

_Katniss is a fox._

* * *

Evader didn't come the next day. Instead, I was paid a visit by Muscle. This was supposed to alarm me, it really was, but I was kind of glad that Muscle was here today.

"You're back," I said, chuckling. Knowing Muscle, he won't reply.

None of my numerous attempts at plucking a conversation out of this guy had worked. I kind of thought he might be an Avox. So, I gave up. I still talk to him but I just imagined his replies.

"Even my wife never gets this excited to see me."

_Huh?_

"Did you just-"

"Yes, I am not an Avox," he answered, rolling his eyes.

_Wow._

"I'd kick you in the nuts right now if I could move, you dick," I glared.

"Hey, no, I'm in charge of all the kicking here," he said, snorting a little. "But seriously, yes, I have never met anyone so thrilled to see me."

I think I like Muscle, minus the… you know… torturing-me-to-oblivion part. _Obviously._

I felt like I could be honest with him. "Yeah, well… some people might prefer to get knocked out than be made to think," I retorted, not at Muscle, but at the glass behind him.

_Enjoying the show, Snow?_

_I know you're watching me… always watching me…_

What I said to Muscle just now wasn't the absolute truth. I mean, I don't like getting hit (but who does?). I thought I received an ample amount of that from my mother.

I was spared a day to let my cuts and bruises heal a little but now I'm overwhelmed, thinking that I opened a very dangerous door leading them to Katniss.

So really, I'd like to keep my mouth shut, grit my teeth through this torture, than say things that might put countless lives at risk.

"Sorry, Peeta, I don't have all day," shrugged Muscle.

"You read my mind, my man. Let's get this over with," I chuckled. "Go easy on the nose, though, will you?"

"I'll try my best," was the last thing I heard him say as he knocked me sideways on the head with something heavy.

* * *

I thought for a moment that my sense of smell had returned. I could smell rust. I could taste it, too.

Realisation hitting me quick, I opened my eyes. Well, it was more like I _tried _to open my eyes but I couldn't see anything. Did they blindfold me or have they finally managed to blind me?

I struggled to feel for where I was. My chair was gone.

I wriggled my hands. Okay… my hands were still tied.

I jerked my feet. Alright… they're also still bound.

A swift swoosh to my legs made me curve… _up_?

Fuck.

"Hmm-umm-pumm-aat-summ-dumm?"

Gagged, too? Shit.

"What's that, Peeta?"

"Hmm-umm-pumm-aat-summ-dummmmm?" Fuck this. Fuck you, Muscle. _Am I upside down?_ Why the fuck am I upside down? More importantly, how long have I been upside down? Before they can finish with me, I might already die with all of what's left of the blood in my body rushing to my brain.

I willed my upper body to jerk against gravity, like doing a sit up, but you know… upside down. Like that wasn't hard enough as it was, I hear another swoosh. _Snap._

A muffled cry broke out of me. _Open your eyes, Peeta. Open your eyes. You need to see!_

"Dii-yaa-jaa-baa-umm-leem?"

Swoosh.

"Ahh-yaa-fuujuun-bwaaauun-"

Son of a bitch, he just broke my good leg. Now, he wants to fucking detach my bad leg from my prosthetic, too?

"Faaa-yaaaaaa."

"I understood that last one, Peeta."

About fucking time. Shit, I just heard another snap on my good leg (well, which was now fucking broken).

I couldn't keep up with his beatings. And at that moment, I was taken back to those times I forcibly tucked away in my memory. It started with Mum's annoyed secret pinches from under the table when I was four. Little pinches grew to slight kicks to louder slaps to the inevitable rolling pin smacks across the head, heavier kicks, and the rare but agonising punches. These memories were buried yet imprinted. And being brought back to those times simply made me feel like I was getting hit doubly hard.

No longer did I want to force my eyes open, I clenched them shut.

_Stop! For the love of… just fucking stop! Somebody make this person stop! Katniss, make them stop!_

"Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" was all I could manage. "Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Who am I kidding? Why the fuck did I ever think for a moment that torture was better than getting a word out of me?

I could feel my fucking prosthetic ever so slowly getting dislodged from the rest of my body. _Fuuuuuuck._

There were a lot of tears. And I mean _a whole fucking lot_.

Muscle wasn't hitting me anywhere else though. I couldn't see him but he seemed bent over whacking only my legs.

_Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh._

"Saaaaaaaaaaa, saaaaaaaaaaaaaa, saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Yes, Peeta, I didn't hit your nose!" he laughed breathily. The motherfucker's enjoying this, of course.

"Saaaaaaaa, duun-kiii-hmm. Yaa-kiin-kii-hmmmmmm!" I tried to yell, I really did. I hoped he fucking understood that.

"I didn't hit your nose, Peeta, yes! But, no, I cut you!"

_This is it, isn't it? I'm going to die soon, aren't I?_ I mean, what the fuck did this guy just say to me? I was woozy.

"Let me take this off," Muscle pulled down the gag from my mouth.

"Stop," I yelled. "Don't kill me. You can't kill me… yet!"

I breathed using my mouth - lungfuls of air, in and out, as quickly as I could - so my head would clear a little.

"You know I can't kill you," he said.

"Fuck you," I said.

"You still got fire in you, no?" I heard the scraping noise of my chair being dragged closer to my location.

"Fuck… you…"

Muscle wrapped one thick arm around my waist, "Get your fucking hands off of me!"

I thrashed as if I could fight this man off and win.

"Will you calm down?" He tightened his grip around my waist and I soon felt him untying the rope around my ankles. "Chair or floor?"

"What?" I said, taking a moment to absorb his question, "Ch-chair."

He placed me back on my chair gently enough.

_This can't be the end of this._

Just as I finished that sentence in my head, Muscle splashed me with stinging, icy water. _Fuuuuuuuck._

"For your eyes, no," he said. "So you can see."

He splashed me four more times, the whole while I thought to myself that today was _really_ the day I was going to die.

But I had a crack at opening my eyes and slowly, a hint of light became visible. I tried opening them a little wider but it was excruciating. They must be really fucking battered and swollen.

"Can you untie my hands?" I asked. "Fuck, I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes that, I can't do that," he said. "And your eyes are not battered, yes, I cut them, so no, they are swelling now."

"Proud of that?" I hissed.

He didn't answer. All I could hear was clunks of many different things being stacked in one pile somewhere in the room.

"I'll leave this light here for you, Peeta," he said.

"What the fuck would I need it for when _I can't fucking see_?" I mumbled. He didn't answer. Finally, I heard the door beep, more clunking, and the door shutting, beeping once more.

Alone. Again.

I couldn't see myself... well, of what is left of myself. How bad was it this time?

Since I was finally seated, I could only see that fucking glass from the cracks of my eyes.

_I know you can see me. Are you rejoicing right now?_

"Just kill me, Snow," I whispered. "Just end me."

There was no force that knocked me sideways this time, just sheer exhaustion and most likely, blood loss… but before I gave in to unconsciousness, I stretched out my hands… hoping that when I opened my eyes again, Katniss would be holding them safely in hers.

_Katniss is my fox._

* * *

Thanks for reading! :)


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